


Under Pressure

by Carbon65



Series: B's get degrees [2]
Category: Newsies (1992), Newsies - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Chemistry, M/M, Pre-Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-03
Updated: 2018-10-03
Packaged: 2019-07-24 20:04:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,038
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16182218
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Carbon65/pseuds/Carbon65
Summary: Is there such a thing as too much Queen or too much caffeine? Caffeine is definitely Mush's favorite purine. On the other hand, if he doesn't get this experiment figured out, his head might explode from the pressure.At least there's someone there to act as a release valve.





	Under Pressure

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by the prompt,
> 
> __  
> stuck in traffic/on a train/bus/anywhere, character A is trying to be chatty and friendly but character B isn’t having it  
> 
> 
> Warnings  
> \--------  
> Most of the warnings are given in the prompt, in terms of persistence  
> Thermodynamics  
> Mentions of the on-campus Game, Assassin's, and nerf guns

“PV equals nRT,” Mush mutters, pulling the well chewed blue Bic out of his mouth to scribble something down on the onion sheet carbon copy lab notebook page. “Assuming that V is constant, and the chamber is perfectly sealed…”

He stares at the scribbles, the smudged blue letters and numbers swimming before his eyes. He’s not sure if they make sense. He’s been staring at them so long. Maybe if he just… He them crosses them out with a big X before flipping to a new page.

A cafeteria tray bangs down next to him, and he jumps a little bit. His right hand, pen still in it trails across his cheek.

“You, umm…” 

The guy standing across from him is value familiar. He’s wearing a loose red shirt and a mischievous grin. He motions at his cheek.

Mush nods, and and scrubs a hand at his face, ineffectively trying to get the ink off. It’s probably a lost cause anyway. He takes a long drink of his now cold coffee, and starts flipping between pages to copy down measurements and errors.

“Whatcha doing?” Red shirt asks, leaning across the table. 

“P chem.” He glares up through the half curtain of his hair. He’d finally gotten up the courage to get an undercut. Someday, he’ll shave it all off. This way, he can tell him mom that it’s “just hair” and he “tried” but he couldn’t make it work, and maybe he’ll “grow it out again someday”. It will make her happy, at least.

Red shirt nods again. “Why?”

“Because I have to go student teach tomorrow and its due on Thursday?” The words burst out frustrated and raw.

He takes another drink of his coffee and winces. Dining hall coffee isn’t great warm. It’s terrible cold. He pushes the tray back, and continues to copy over the numbers. 249 K… no, wait, that can’t be right. That’s like… 20 degrees. He’s pretty sure it wasn’t snowing in his lab last week. But, who the fuck knows? It might have been. Between tech week and student teaching and everything, it might have been snowing in the lab and he just hadn’t noticed because he’d probably been half asleep. 

“Goddamn infinite improbability drive,” he mutters, putting blue line through his numbers and starting again.

“Hitchhiker’s guide?” Red shirt asks.

And damn, he needs to get the guy’s name. He can’t just… No. Wait. He does not need the guy’s name. He needs to figure out how many kilojoules of energy are in whale sperm DNA. Wait, no. He needs to figure out how many kilojoules of energy there are per mole of glucose and the molecular weight of whale sperm based on beer’s law. But, he doesn’t have to do the second one until next week, thank God. Why the fuck he thought a biochemistry major with a minor in secondary ed was a good idea is beyond him.

“Uhhh?” He repeats.

“You don’t remember me, do you?” Red shirt turns his head, and Mush notices for the first time that his eyes are two different colors. THe right is pale gray-blue, and the left looks like someone colored it in with a “Blue” crayola marker. He sticks out his hand. “Blink.”

“Umm… Mush?” He offers back, social niceties kicking in over his sleep deprived and Gay-Lussac’s law. Which, sadly, has less to do with said cute boy or any queer community and more to do with… thermogoddamnymics.

“Dude,” Blink says, pushing what might be a fresh cup of coffee across the table at Mush. “Take a break. It looks like you’ve been here since breakfast. It’s almost four. Have you eaten anything since?”

“But…” The words trail off as he stares at cup of coffee in front of him. It’s like the fucking unicorn blood. “But, they have free coffee. And Mountain Dew. And mountain Dew you can put in your coffee.”

“Good to know,” Blink says, taking a drink of what is… definitely not coffee. “Take a break with me. Put down the P-chem -- wait, pee like piss chem?”

“Wait until you hear about the anal chemists,” Mush mutters, obediently sticking his pen in the notebook, and taking a long drink of the coffee. It’s good: milk and enough sugar to cover most sins.

“Tell me all about chemists and their anal.” Blink, orders. “Fuck, just talk to me. Way Too much Shakespeare. I need to break this iambic bullshit.”

Mush pushes back his hair, and takes a long drink of his coffee. “Can we talk about something else? Anything else?”

“Two houses, alike in dignity?” Blink suggests.

Mush pulls over his text book and drops his head securely into the pages on the gas law, then pulls himself back up. “No, something… else. Oh God. I can’t even think of anything.”

“Study less, sleep more. Oh! I know. Tell me about Assassins!” Blink almost bounces.

“How did you know?” Mush gives up on the chemistry, shoving the notebook aside. 

How the heck is he supposed to deal with it snowing in the classroom? He can’t just ask Blink if it was snowing in the chemistry building two weeks ago, can he? But, fuck, between tech week and then the show and student teaching, it might have and he just might not remember.

And, wait, they didn’t do Assasins this year. That was last year, right? Was it this year? Did they do Sondheim this year? Well, yes, they do Sondheim every year. But, Into the Woods, right? No, company. Now, wait, they did Company when he was in Gen Chem. And, he remembers doing Orgo homework backstage at Assassins. Which means Into the Woods is this year.

His face must be entirely blank.

“We met at a theater party.” Blink rolls his right eye, the left not quite keeping up. It ends up in this weird half rolled position, and Mush doesn’t know how to tell him. “And, the theater department signs you guys up, whether you want to play or not.”

“Right,” he says with a laugh. “It was killer.”

And then, he starts talking about the girl with the typewriter key earrings who gave him the name of the boy with stupid red bandana.

**Author's Note:**

> Also inspired by [this video on Tumblr](http://geschreibsel.tumblr.com/post/177886463348/urbisie-everystarstorm-thelichboi), which demonstrates the Gay-Lussac law in action.


End file.
